Merlin's Malt
by Haunted Emerald Depths
Summary: Being intoxicated on the beat of the music may leave a person finding out more than they wished about someone they believed they hated. Eventual DMHP slash. A cowritten fic.
1. Chapter 1

This fic is based off of a very random idea my cousin and I came up with one day. We're both taking turns writing segments of it. There is randomness galore.

**Title:** Merlin's Malt

**By:** FracturedRequiem and Haunted Emerald Depths

**Note:** There will be Draco/Harry SLASH. If you don't enjoy male/male pairings, be gone with you.

**Disclaimer:** We don't own Harry Potter, and no money is being made here. Let's leave it at that.

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"Oh, come on Harry. You've got to live a little. I mean, you've been training nonstop for this upcoming war. I know what you're doing is very important and all, but you've got to have fun _sometimes_."

Harry merely glared at his redheaded friend before replying, "I guess I can _sort of _see your point." He heaved a frustrated sigh. "But what if we get caught? We're not even supposed to be in this part of Hogsmeade."

"Since when do you care about the rules?" Seamus chimed in. "If I remember correctly, in previous years, you were always getting into loads of trouble." Dean nodded his head in agreement.

_Thanks for the help, guys. _"But I've never been to a place like this. It's going to be so..." Harry trailed off, unable to think of a word. His face reddened somewhat for reasons unbeknownst to him, but due to the darkness, no one could see.

"I haven't either," Ron replied nonchalantly. "It's high time we tried something new." He proceeded to grab Harry's arm and drag him toward a large building with flashing lights and music so loud it could be heard from thirty feet away. The raven-haired teen sighed in defeat as his friends ushered him along. As he passed underneath the sign that read Merlin's Malt, a single thought flitted through his head -- _This ought to be interesting_...

Ron opened the door, and the group was almost swept away by a wave of music. The raven-haired boy's jaw dropped open as he gawked at what lay before them, frozen in place. It wasn't until he received a hard poke that he began moving again.

"Wicked!"

That was the first word that managed to escape Harry's dry throat as he entered Merlin's Malt. His eyes and ears had never encountered such a combination of color and sound. Candles floated high above the heads of the crowded room, changing colours and sending sparks up into the air that reflected upon the raven-haired boy's glasses. Live music was coming from deep inside another room below, though with its volume there wasn't really need for a floor between them. Harry turned to Hermione and Ron, trying to hide the excitement and thrill he was feeling.

"S'alright, I suppose," Harry shouted over the roaring music, shrugging his shoulders, though he couldn't hide the smile that was growing larger and larger on his face.

"Oh, I KNEW you would like it, Harry!" yelled Seamus, his smile, if possible, even larger than Harry's. Harry looked to Ron, who didn't seem to be partaking in their joy. On the contrary, he looked rather uncomfortable and annoyed.

"What's the matter, Ron?" Harry managed to yell, but before he could receive an answer, the crowd seemingly circled and then engulfed him, along with all his senses. At that moment, he didn't care what Ron thought. At that moment, he didn't care that the Wizarding world was in the midst of a war between good and evil. All that mattered to Harry, at that precise moment, was letting the music overpower and penetrate him.

Harry had never truly danced before (he didn't count his attempt with Parvati during the Yule Ball), but it was as if some innate feeling was taking a hold of him. Tendrils of music seeped into his mind and seized control of his motions. A beat formed in his head, and his body soon became one with it. Harry lost himself among the other dancers, not caring for one moment if he was making a fool of himself. He was barely aware of the tension, which had built up over the past several weeks, leaving him.

Harry's surroundings became a blur of motion. He lost track of where his friends were, how long he was on the floor, even who he was. He wasn't Harry Potter, saviour of the Wizarding world. He was a mere seventeen-year-old boy who wanted to enjoy life as much as possible. The music allowed this; the weight that was usually settled on his shoulders steadily dissolved into nothing, allowing him to float into oblivion.

However, all good things must come to an end. Harry fell back to reality -- literally. Due to his lack of awareness of his surroundings, Harry slammed into someone, hard, and sent them both crashing to the floor. The Gryffindor sat up, rubbing his back, an apology poised on his lips. He was just about to let it free when he saw who the other person was. There was no mistaking that blonde hair anywhere. At the sight of those grey eyes, the apology died away instantly, instead being replaced with a scathing remark. However, he bit his lip to keep it back. He merely choked back his animosity and settled for a glare and allowed a bite to be heard in his tone.

"Malfoy."

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To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

I know it has been some time since I have updated anything. My time's been consumed by a book I've started. Please forgive me. I'm working on a few things at once (including_ Dreaming of You_ -gasp!-), so there may be more updates in the near future.

As for this story, I've taken the reins myself. I am no longer cowriting this; it's in my hands. The forst part of this chapter was written by my cousin, but the rest, and what will follow in other chapters, is, or will be, by me.

**Note:** There will be Draco/Harry SLASH. If you don't enjoy male/male pairings, be gone with you.

**Disclaimer:** We don't own Harry Potter, and no money is being made here. Let's leave it at that.

- - -

**Merlin's Malt**

Chapter 2

- - -

Slytherin Head Boy Draco Malfoy glared at Potter, both hatred and an odd sensation reeling through his veins. His usually perfect blonde hair now lay mussed over his pale face, not quite hiding the piercing blue-grey eyes, which were filled with disgust.

"Watch it, Potter, there's no Dumbledore's Losers Brigade to save you now," Malfoy sneered, getting up and brushing himself off quickly.

"I hardly meant to wrinkle your lovely outfit, Malfoy," Harry retorted, gracefully moving out of the throbbing crowd. "Make sure you have your Mummy iron it for you. We don't want tears shed."

In an instant Malfoy closed in on Harry, so close that Harry could smell the mint on his breath, before whispering slyly into his ear, "You picked the wrong side to fight on, Mudblood lover." And with that, Draco left with a sneer, once again disappearing onto the crowded dance floor.

Harry stood alone, momentarily speechless. Mudblood lover? Could Draco possibly be referring to his relationship with -- "No," Harry told himself. "Impossible. Not even Ron knows about that." Trying to silence his screaming thoughts, Harry headed over to the bar, where he spotted Seamus flirting with a shy looking boy with bright green hair. Not wanting to interrupt their conversation (if you could call that a conversation; it looked to Harry as though Seamus had a little bit more than talking on his mind), Harry took himself and his thoughts further down the bar, at last finding a seat and slumping onto it. No matter how hard he tried to let the music grip him and take his mind and worries away, there was no escaping what Malfoy had said. And it wasn't only that; why had Harry's face been burning red when Malfoy had come close to him and whispered into his ear?

Finally, with a frustrated sigh and a small shrug to no one in particular, Harry passed off his emotions as a mixture of anger and contempt. What else would he possibly feel toward the other boy? After all those years of--NO. He would not go there. He could already feel his blood beginning to boil again.

To vent his emotions, Harry got to his feet and began circumventing the dance floor. He soon realized that watching the other people swaying to the beat was rather relaxing. It seemed as if there was some underlying magic to the notes of the song pulsing through the room in a steady wave. He realized that if he cleared his mind, he was easily able to let it take control of him once again.

As he snaked through the ever-growing throng of people, the raven-haired boy kept a lookout for Dean. After what Draco implied, he didn't want to be seen with the boy; risking himself further embarrassment was not what he wanted to do at the moment, and he did not want Dean to suffer with him.

_Since when do I care what the stupid git thinks? _a voice hissed in the back of his mind.

"I don't," Harry whispered to himself vehemently. He balled his hands into fists, determinedly trying to squash the voice.

"Talking to yourself now, aren't you Potter? My, my. I must say that this adds a whole new level to your abnormality."

Harry's head snapped up, his eyes meeting those of Draco for the second time that night. The Gryffindor mentally kicked himself, wishing he was paying more attention so he could have avoided this unwanted confrontation.

"Are you stalking me, Malfoy?" Harry spat out. "If you wanted an autograph you could've just asked." The dark sarcasm was plainly evident in his voice.

"Don't flatter yourself, Scarhead," Draco hissed. His hands were clenching into fists.

"_Scarhead?_" Harry let out a bark of laughter. "Please, Malfoy. We're not in second year anymore. Why don't you call me something, I don't know, more geared toward our age group? Something like dickhead or bumblefuck?"

"No, they're not as insulting," Draco mused. He placed a finger to his temple, feigning intense concentration. "I know what _would_ get to you, though. I could make some nice comment about, oh I don't know, maybe your sexuality?" A menacing grin broke out on his pale face. Harry's own face went white with a mixture of fear and rage.

"Don't you dare," he hissed. His fingernails dug into his palms as his hands curled in on themselves. The music and surrounding chatter became background noise as he focused on the devil in front of him. Surly this human being was sent from his own personal hell to ensure that his life would forever be miserable.

"What's wrong, arse bandit?" He paused here as Harry convulsed at the term. "Surly your friends already know about you and Thomas, your little Mudblood pet?" Harry's green eyes widened a fraction and scanned the surrounding area for eavesdroppers. "Surly they would support the two of you." Draco cackled, knowing full well how much Ron was against same-sex relationships.

"Will you please keep quiet?" Harry whispered, almost pleadingly. Never before had he looked so defeated in front of Draco. The blonde relished the sight; the malicious glee he felt from making the other boy to feel this way drove him on.

"Aww, is little Potter afraid of being even more of a pariah than he already is?" Draco taunted, pushing his bottom lip out into a pout. "First his parents are murdered, his godfather is murdered… is he afraid of being next in line for being a--"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Harry snarled, connecting his fist with Draco's jaw and sending the boy flying back into a surprised group of dancers before launching himself after him.

- -

To be continued


End file.
